


Darth Maul/Reader

by Khaleesi_of_Assassins



Series: Star Wars Dark Side Scanarios [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Jedi, Sith, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaleesi_of_Assassins/pseuds/Khaleesi_of_Assassins
Summary: You were raised as a slave for the Black Sun crime syndicate. All of your life, you dreamed of freedom. You just never expected to recieve it as a result of a terrifyingly powerful man murdering your master. What's more, you didn't expect to cross paths with him again.But the universe, it seems, has other plans.





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be following the same story line as my other Dark Side Scenarios stories, this is a test-chapter of sorts. The rest of the story will be caught up rather quickly because I was a fool and didn't think to add our Zabrak boi to the series until now, for some reason. I messed up bid time, in that regard but hey.   
> Anyway, please enjoy my slow burn Maul fic because Maul deserves more love.

Slavery in the galaxy, officially, was outlawed.

        It lifted your spirits somewhat to know that somewhere there were in fact bureaucrats who thought of the practice as barbaric or at least cruel. You often wondered what your life might have been like if you had been born on one of those worlds where the law had more power, or maybe just into a family that had more power to protect its own.

        The brand barely concealed by the clothes on your back was always there to remind you of reality, though.

        “(Y/N), come now. Alexi will be displeased if we don’t finish this.” The ever-calm voice of Rela refocused you on the work before you. Rela was a twi’lek in her thirties, well older than you, though all of the slaves in the service of Alexi Garyn were you seniors as well.

        Rela stood behind a crate of spice currently, waiting for your help lifting it so it could be carried into one of the transport ships. The two of you hoisted the heavy crate up, moving it to the open cargo bay of the nearest vessel before setting it down. So many times you had thought of just stowing away on one of those ships and getting off Ralltiir. You knew Rela had too (and probably every other one of the Black Sun slaves that surrounded you).

        She had spoken of it a few times with you; how she would live her life if she were freed, if the tiny explosive at the base of her skull were deactivated, how she would fly and fly and never come back.

        You couldn’t help but think about that too.

        You thought of it every time one of the Black Sun gangsters would beat you or one of the other slaves. You thought about it when you went to sleep and heard the lock on the door to the slave’s quarters engage. You thought about it when Alexi promised you would dance for him when you were old enough.

        Rela had warned you he might be interested when you were just a child. She had said that if you grew up to be beautiful, he would ask about it. You hadn’t believed her until just a few months ago when Alexi had made you that promise.

        Wiping the sweat from your brow, you straightened your back after lowering the final crate, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone as you left the ship. It wasn’t enough to stop your eyes from falling on another pair of yellow ones, framed by grey tattoos.

        Mighella terrified you. You knew very little about the Nightsister except that she was Alexi’s bodyguard and that she could probably kill you and all of Alexi’s slaves in a matter of moments.

        She held your gaze for a moment before it moved, scanning the deck in a predatory way before she stalked off, no doubt to wherever Alexi was. As commanded, the slaves began to return to their community quarters.

        Your group made it about halfway there when guards rushed past you, frightened looks in their eyes.

        Most of the other slaves simply watched them dash past you, knowing better than to get involved. You didn’t ask questions outright, choosing instead to watch the guards run back where you came from. You followed them briefly, enough to see them run up the ramp Mighella had gone up.

        You knew the witch had powers, even if you didn’t understand them, and from the look in her eyes before she left you couldn’t help but wonder if she knew something was about to happen.

        Either way, you continued to follow the rest of the slaves, though you stayed at the back of the group.

        All your instincts were screaming against going with them, despite your mind telling you otherwise. You stopped briefly, the other slaves - even Rela - were too frightened to notice that you had stopped moving, leaving you to look back towards the source of all this excitement.

        Your feet were moving before you even told them to, your mind racing but one motive was clear. You knew that the guards would be preoccupied with the fighting, leaving any ships docked traceable but unguarded. The only thing stopping you from taking one right now was the explosive that all of Alexi’s slaves were equipped with. An instant death should someone try to escape.

        The solution to that problem was clear as well, if utterly insane. You stopped for a moment, considering of the risk was worth it or not.

        Memories of a whip lashing across your back coupled with the sounds of blaster fire urged you forward.

        You moved towards Alexi’s offices, certain that the codes would be there somewhere. If not, they were probably with Alexi himself. That wouldn't stop you, you decided.

        Rounding a corner, you practically skidded to a halt at the sight in front of you. Dozens of guards were strewn across the ground, each missing limbs or with smoldering holes burnt through them. You had been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time before; you'd seen Black Sun deals go south and end in brutal death. This was another kind of carnage entirely.

        It reminded you of Mighella, in some way. Of the way her grey tattoos forced her lips into a permanent, cruel smile.

        You weighed the risks, coming to the conclusion that turning back might be best when you heard a pause in the background blaster fire. The heavy silence that took its place lingered in the air for a moment, compelling you forward - perhaps foolishly.

        More bodies were waiting for you, slumped over creates or cut to pieces on the ground. Part of you thought maybe the attacker had been killed, that Alexi’s guards had somehow triumphed.

        It wasn't until you were near the causeway to Alexi’s office that you knew otherwise. The sound of an energy weapon clashing against something let you know the fight was not yet over, but you weren't prepared for what you saw when you could finally see the platform.

        Mighella was there, her brown hair spinning about her madly as she swung the blade in her hand. The look on her face was one of certainty, like her opponent was her prey and she was just toying with him  before the kill.

        It only took one look at the man whose own weapon struck against hers to be certain of who was truly to be feared in this fight.

        Everything about this man, from the razor horns on his head to the red and black tattoos covering every exposed inch of him screamed death. The sheer amount of muscle on him made you think he could have snapped Mighella in half, if he wanted. He fought like he had been born to do it, his strikes almost too fast to see as he spun his double-bladed weapon around him. It's blade looked like it was made up of pure, red light, like a lure to beckon people to their deaths.

        You had never seen anyone so utterly terrifying. Still, somehow, Mighella seemed to be holding her own against him.

        Their exchange of blows was utterly ferocious, and you thought it might never end until the Zabrak brought down his weapon in an arc that cut straight through Mighella's. You watched the man land against the causeway, preparing to launch back into the air and end the Nightsister.

        Mighella didn’t seem fazed at all as she brought her arms up. “A Nightsister,” she said in a voice that chilled you, “is never unarmed.”

        The man had no sooner left the ground when white and blue lines cut through the air and hit him. The lightning sent him to the ground, groaning as is arched over his tattooed skin. You had hoped to never see the abilities that Mighella was rumored to have, and now you watched as even this living weapon of a man was brought to his knees by it.

        “Even _you_ can’t stand before Force lightning,” the man seemed to stop convulsing and steadied himself, something you didn’t think Mighella saw, “and the power of the Dark Side.”

        Your eyes and Mighella’s widened as the man lifted his horned head to look at his opponent. “You know _nothing_ of the Dark Side.” He snarled in a voice that might have been calm were it not laced with utter rage.

        “How can you . . . resist . . . I know. I know what you must be-” Mighella’s words were cut off as the man rose from the ground and swung his blade. Mighella made some sputtering sound, though you were still processing what was happening as two halves of the Nightsister toppled to the water below.

        You found yourself scrambling for a place to hide, pressing yourself against the wall and praying you would somehow phase into it.

        The minutes you spent there felt like an eternity as you waited, sinking behind one of the stacks of crates that a body was draped over. You quieted your breathing as much as you could, trying to decide what to do if the man should find you.

        Your decision was rushed when you heard the sound of heavy boots against metal and every muscle in your body froze.

        The man walked straight past your hiding spot, water dripping off of him and onto the walkway. It was the first time you saw his eyes fully. They were a near-glowing yellow, rimmed with red and they were focused on the path ahead of him. He looked like a force of nature, like all the force in the galaxy would do nothing to stop him.

        You were just beginning to think you might survive this ordeal when he halted his stride.

        As you saw his head turn, you ducked down to the ground, closing your eyes; partly to try to hide among the dead, partly so that you wouldn’t have to look death in the eyes if he found you. The silence was oppressive, as was his gaze, even though you couldn’t see it.

        Finally, you heard his footsteps yet again, continuing on their way away from you. Still, you waited.

        You waited until your joints ached from staying in one position for so long, until you thought were sure the world around you had gone as still as you were. Then, slowly, you rose.

        The Zabrak man was gone and the wind of the water just a few meters away was the only sound. Like a moth to a flame, you stepped towards the causeway where Mighella had been killed. You were stiff as you neared the platform, afraid that somehow the Nightsister would be lying there, in two halves, staring up at you. The only evidence of any fight there, however, was the severed end of Mighella’s sword.

        Still, your gaze was drawn to the water, to where the witch had fallen. You half expected to see her there.

        What you saw instead, was the blond corpse of Alexi Garyn - your master, the man who had robbed you of your free will, of the right to be anything but a piece of property - floating in the water.


	2. Unexpected Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years have passed since the day your master was killed and you were freed. Much has changed since then, you had almost forgotten the man who inadvertently freed you. The universe sees fit to remind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this is part of my overarching Dark Side Scenarios work, it will be following the same plotline and I would like to update them all at the same time so they all match in terms of where they are in the story. That said, since this is a late entry to that series, I needed to play catch-up so that's what this is.

        “Come on, (Y/N), we haven't got all day!” the impatient yell of your captain spurred you on, prompting your movements to become a little faster. There was some small part of you that wanted to spit some harsh words back at him before reminding him that you were not a slave - or at least, not anymore.

        Even flying with Xos Asiis for a year had not entirely cured you of that will to be free of any demand, but in that year you had come to respect the freighter captain and his authority. Enough to retain your place on his ship, anyway.

        Still, there was something oddly liberating about completing a task of your own free will, not because a bomb would take your head off if you didn’t.

        This particular task was simple enough, and one you had become accustomed to while traveling with Xos aboard the Red Flare. After all, the ship’s systems needed to be checked often - especially before transporting cargo - and that task typically fell to you. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any problems with the Flare, so you quickly stood before jogging to meet your captain.  

        Xos Asiis was a very tall Kel Dor, an intimidating sight for those who weren't familiar with the race. Even so, what he lacked in charisma he made up for in integrity. It was part of the reason he had been called to Akiva.

        The planet wasn't on you had ever seen before, and based on the closed-off hangar you entered, you didn't think today would be the day you'd get to. Still, the new job you were here for was exciting enough.

        “I do not know much about this particular contact,” Xos began with a familiar air of caution, “but I would expect that being respectful would be beneficial to us.”

        You couldn’t help but let your lips curve up into a little smile. Xos may have earned your respect as a captain, but so much of the galaxy had not. A fact that you had given voice to. Often and loudly. Those with an air of superiority would come to fear you, you had decided one day, and you made good on that decision - much to the chagrin of your captain.

        “(Y/N),” the Kel Dor must have seen your expression, “can I count on you not to cause problems?”

        “What, me? Causing problems?” you smiled innocently, earning you a knowing tilt of the head from the tall alien. You regained some of your composure as you nodded. “I won’t speak unless spoken to, Xos.”

        That seemed to be adequate for him, and his focus returned to the expansive hangar in front of him. The walls were lined with deactivated Vulture droids, each bearing the mark of the Trade Federation. Other, smaller droids were scattered about, making repairs or otherwise working throughout the room. The only living thing in sight, besides Xos and yourself, seemed to be the tall figure that stepped through the wide doors on the other end of the hangar.

        As you drew closer, you realized that this was a Neimoidian, and a very prominent one, judging from his intricate attire.

        “Captain Xos Asiis, I presume.” You were surprised by how respectful he sounded. Few regarded the two of you with much more than slight formality.

        “Yes. Here as requested.”

        The Neimoidian grinned, or at least you assumed that was his intention, despite how forced it looked. “I trust your journey was not difficult. Now, I must stress the importance of your cargo. It is imperative that it reaches Cato Neimoidia quickly . . . and quietly.”

        That comment forced your eyes to narrow. You thought you were just transporting hyperdrive components, a rather common commodity. What about that would warrant secrecy?

        “We will get the job done, I assure you.” Xos didn't seem to match your suspicion, something that you weren't sure made it better or worse.

        Your captain continued to converse with the Neimoidian, who never acknowledged you beyond a brief glance. It suited you well enough, your attention being drawn instead back to the Vulture Droids that lined the hangar. You’d seen their kind before - with the Trade Federation having spread so far throughout the galaxy, it was hard to avoid them - and these looked no different.

        In fact, nothing about this seemed incredibly different from other jobs you had done.

        All the more reason why being anxious made no sense to you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling. You had felt something similar once before. The day you watched Mighella die at the hands of a waking nightmare.

        Not that it mattered, because in a matter of moments the contract had been finalized, sealed with Xos and the Neimoidian shaking hands. All you could do was bite your lip, hoping that your instincts were wrong.

        ---

        The Red Flare was not a small shop by any means, offering plenty of room to roam during flights between worlds. Usually you would use this time to wander the ship or play a game of sabacc.

        For the entirety of your trip to Cato Neimoidia however, you were in the cargo bay.

        Even as you were loading the cargo aboard the ship, there was a feeling of foreboding in your gut, which had only worsened after you left the system. You couldn’t explain it, and even Xos - with decades more experience than you - had reassured you that everything was going perfectly well.

        His words had little effect, as you began the process of tearing through the cargo bay, searching for whatever was causing your heart to beat so fast.

        Several discarded hyperdrive components lay around you as you continued your search, among which you had expected to find a bomb or some weapon that could mean your demise. What you found was nothing out of the ordinary, and the feeling that you were losing your mind. After setting down the piece of machinery you were holding, you slumped down against one the the cargo containers, reprimanding yourself and preparing to put everything back the way you’d found it.

        Until you heard a faint clicking sound above you.

        Slowly, you moved your gaze upwards, the glare of the lights hanging from the ceiling blinding you partially . . . but not enough to stop you from seeing movement in the dark space above them. Your eyes widened as a massive creature dropped to the ground in front of you, a black insectoid body with blood red eyes and a gaping, fanged maw.

        You were on your feet in an instant, calling out for Xos. The creature’s armored footfalls were loud against the metal of the cargo bay, and enough to make you run faster. You had no sooner rounded the corner into the main passageway that you felt something latch onto your leg, claws ripping into your flesh and forcing you down.

        Few clear thoughts made it through your head as you twisted to see the hideous monster, though you were vaguely aware of your hand closing around the blaster on your hip.

        Three red blasts were fired from the weapon, each hitting your assailant. The beast released you as it wailed in agony, giving you enough time to continue running, barely noticing the pain or the blood dripping from your ankle. “Xos! Xos!” you screamed, desperately searching for the Kel Dor.

        You had barely made it to the bridge when you felt yourself be lifted off the ground and being turned to look into a set of several red eyes. The three smoldering blaster wounds that peppered its form bared registered before you were thrown back, pain exploding in the back of your head as you hit something hard, and your vision faded to black.

        ---

        You felt shackles around your wrist before you even fully woke up. As soon as you registered the cold metal digging into your wrists, your eyes were wide open and you were struggling with all your might against the restraints.

        “Please, resistance will not expedite your release.” You looked up to the see a spherical droid hovering above your head, a threatening armament attached to its small frame. You recognized it immediately, having watched your former masters in the Black Sun use one such droid on a prisoner. This was an interrogation droid, and its proximity to you was enough to make you pull at the shackles with even more fervor.

        “As I said,” the droid began, “your efforts are pointless.” The words halted your movements, if briefly, as you opted to glare at the droid instead.

        “Where am I?” you spat, only to receive no answer. The droid took to asking its own questions instead.

        “Where are the remaining prototype hyperdrive engine cores? Reveal their location, and your termination will not be a painful one.”

        Your stomach seemed to drop. If you had acted on your instinct, you thought, you might have avoided this. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know that we were transporting them-”

        “Negative.” The droid moved closer in an instant, a needle at its side piercing your skin. Whatever it injected burned like a fire inside your veins, enough to make you scream. “You were spotted going through the prototypes. Where are the cores?”

        Biting back the pain was difficult, but you had done it for years of your life. You were still shaking from the drug, but you managed to hold your gaze steady. “Where’s my captain?” you demanded.

        Another injection and more pain were the droid’s answer. Your head pounded and you felt your consciousness slipping away yet again but the sound of a door sliding open, accompanied by multiple pairs of footsteps, was enough to pull the droid’s focus away from you.

        An incomprehensible series of sounds came from outside the cell you were held in, and your interrogator was quick to leave. With the threat currently gone, you allowed your muscles to temporarily relax as you tried to calm the burning that still persisted. It reminded you of an electro whip, in a way, if that sensation were to spread throughout the entire expanse of your body.

        More voices from outside made it easier to distract yourself from the pain, though.

        You could barely make out the voice of the interrogation droid, this time asking questions only to be met with silence from whoever his newest victim was. You prayed that it wasn’t Xos, that maybe he had escaped and was getting help. If they hadn’t already questioned him, and when he didn’t or couldn’t answer, they killed him.

        “Before I terminate you,” the line caught your attention, and only elevated your need to know who was being questioned, “do you wish to make a statement?”

        There was a moment of silence, before a menacing voice cut through the air. “Yes. This entire fortress is going to burn.”

        Something in the man’s voice let you know that he spoke the whole, terrifying truth. You just hoped that when the fortress burned, you wouldn’t burn with it. Not that you had much time to ponder the threat when not just a few seconds later you heard the sound of something snapping, metal hitting against metal.

        The air went eerily quiet as you watched the room outside your cell, waiting for whoever - or whatever - was about to make good on their threat. You were expecting some great behemoth of a man, some battle-hardened veteran who your captors had made the mistake of capturing.

        You couldn’t have been prepared for the one man who had haunted your thoughts since the day you were freed, who made Alexi Garyn and Mighella and the worst Black Sun criminal seem like they would be a safe haven to run to.

        He stepped into your view and you recognized him instantly, the red and black markings that covered his skin and the horns that sprouted from his head unmistakable. Despite the pain searing through your veins, your entire body went still as you watched him stalk about the room. You held your breath as he made his way about, scooping up a vial of liquid you couldn’t identify before taking a sweeping glance around the room.

        That was when his yellow eyes met your own.

        Blood pounded in your ears as you thought of what he might do to you, of what you had watched him do to Mighella and what you knew he did to every member of the Black Sun in that compound. You could remember how terrified you had been almost a year ago, how you had hidden just to avoid meeting those eyes.

        Much had changed since then, though. Alexi Garyn was dead, and your life as a slave was gone with him. If today was the day you died, you decided, you would not die quaking in fear.

        So, with as much audacity as you could manage, you locked your gaze with his.

        It was hard to read his expression, with his tattoos masking him and your vision still blurry, but you could have sworn a look of recognition ghosted his harsh features. You wondered if he had indeed seen you that day, and if he was going to finish the job now.

        Whether he had or not, you weren’t sure you would ever know as he turned away, leaving your line of sight. You barely had time to let out a breath of relief before red lights flashed and an alarm blared in your ears.

        You began to struggle against the shackles once more, with more force than before. You braced your feet against the wall and pushed away as hard as you could, hoping to snap the metal or bend it, though you had little effect. “Come on,” you gritted your teeth and tried again, with no difference in the result. “Come on!” your voice roared through the cell, though you were sure no one was there to hear your call.

        Until more movement caught your attention.

        Whoever it was was limping, their whole body shaking as they fumbled around at a control panel. They hit a switch, and turned to face you, allowing you to see a familiar Kel Dor face-mask. “Xos!” you cried, relieved to see him alive, at least. You heard a click and your shackles were soon released, sending you to the ground. It took you a few moments to gain the ability to stand again, only to see your captain fall down himself.

        You rushed to him through your now open cell, stumbling yourself but able to make it to his side.

        “Come on, captain.” You urged through bared teeth as you looped an arm under his.

        “(Y/N),” your name was little more than a whisper and it made your heart sink. “I told you not to cause problems.” That shadow of humor made you chuckle a bit, giving you a little hope and making you push forward.

        Your progress was slow and you didn’t know where you were going, but the two of you hobbled down the corridors of the facility all the same. You hadn’t run into any of the creatures who had brought you here, nor the tattooed man and while you were thankful, you weren’t sure how long your luck would continue to last.

        The ground shaking beneath your feet answered your question.

        You looked to Xos with wide eyes, only to find the Kel Dor looking down at his feet, which promptly gave out from underneath him. More tremors wracked the hall you stood in as you attempted to use what little strength you had to pull your captain back up, but you knew it wouldn’t mean much. This entire fortress is going to burn. The words repeated in your mind as you fell to your knees next to your captain, seeing a bright light at the other end of the hallway.

        Your eyes widened as heat slammed against your skin, and all you could think to do was raise your arms against the fire that sped toward you, intent on swallowing you whole.

        ---

        The Bartokk assassins fortress was still smoking when Maul returned to it, the lack of activity on the sensors allowing the Zabrak to pilot the Scimitar through Ralltiir’s atmosphere without the stealth he employed just a day ago. He had never returned to the sight of one of his massacres before, so he took his time observing everything he could from aboard his ship. He would not be returning at all, were it not for something he left behind during his assault.

        Maul had doubts that his assassin droid, C-3PX, had survived the explosion that he had set off, nor did it truly matter to him. What did matter, however, was recovering its remains so scavengers could not pick him apart and find the memories he housed. He could not risk his presence being revealed, not when his Master’s plans were unfinished.

        As soon as the ship had landed, Maul was on the move. He sifted through the wreckage, following the scans he had obtained from his ship. It didn’t take long to find the area he was looking for, and using the Force to lift boulders and bent metal was nothing.

        However, Maul did grit his teeth when all he was able to find was a restraining bolt.

        Reaching out with the Force yet again, he searched, thinking he would find the modified droid moving about elsewhere in the wreckage. The sensation of movement was nearly completely gone from the base, and anyone not attuned to the Force would have thought it to be completely desolate. Maul, however could sense life. Beyond that, he could sense power.

        The Sith lept over debris as he searched, one possibility springing to his mind as to where the power was coming from. He threw chunks of rock aside with ease, revealing ruined structures buried beneath, though this was not the only thing he unearthed.

        There was a point in the wreckage, what he assumed had once been a hallway, that had been completely ravaged by the explosion. Metal and rock alike were broken and bent, with nothing staying completely intact. Save for one, small area. The wreckage Maul lifted away from it revealed a perfectly preserved section of the fortress, as if it had been untouched by the carnage.

        At the center of it, lay a young girl, her (H/C) hair splayed around her and her body limp.

        Maul lept so he landed next to her, sensing the Force radiating off of her, and recognizing her from the cells he had been imprisoned in for a short time. How can this be? He wondered, kneeling to examine her.

        He wasn’t entirely aware of his hand reaching for his lightsaber until it was grasped in his hand, one of the red blades ignited. It was the only way, he knew. This girl, Force-sensitive or not had seen him and was therefore a threat to his Master’s plan. A plan that could not afford to fail. A plan he wasn’t sure he knew completely.

        For the first time he could remember, Maul paused before lowering the blade into the girl’s heart. He knew the first, the only rule of the Sith: there can only be two. A master to embody power and an apprentice to crave it.

        He was the later, he knew, but he had been questioning more and more now if he truly was one of the two.

        For years, Maul had been devoted completely to his Master and he would be until his dying breath, but that did not stop him from deactivating his lightsaber and carrying you aboard the Scimitar.

        If he was the future of the Sith, he would eventually need a student, after all.


	3. Master and Apprentice

       Death was darker than you thought. And colder.

        Your time with the Black Sun had given you a great deal of time to think about what death would be like, of what would greet you if you tried to escape. The slaves around you, the ones who had lived a life out of their chains, had told you different stories from different worlds. You’d never put much stock in them, but you couldn’t help but think of them now. The thought of some peaceful afterlife was quite comforting, really, but all you could see before you was shadow.

        But as you waded deeper into the darkness, you realized that those shadows were beginning to take form.

        You saw a man, his features hidden but you didn’t need to see much of him to know that he was dangerous. You saw distant worlds, ones you didn’t recognize. You saw a woman who seemed to bend the shadows around her to her will. You saw the horned man who had liberated you and left you to die.

        You saw a light.

        You didn’t even realize that you had opened your eyes at first, but the sight of the room around you was proof enough. Sitting up made your bones pop, eliciting a groan from you. Once you were up, you were able to truly take in where you were; it was a small room with a singular light over your head, illuminating a singular bed which you sat on. This wasn’t the fortress you had been held in - as if there would be much left of it.

        So where were you?

        Quietly, you swung your legs off the stiff bed, wobbling a bit as you stood. Still, you were able to walk despite the fact you thought your body would have been completely obliterated by the explosion.

        There wasn’t much ground to cover, as wherever you were seemed to be a rather small structure - a ship, you realized. You couldn’t say who it belonged to, as it seemed to be deserted as you made your way through it. Still, there was something about the air of the ship that felt strange, almost beckoning you out of the small room. A long passageway before you ended in a door, one that you discovered was locked.

        Returning to the main room, you continued examining your surroundings, trying to determine who had rescued you. Other rooms were nestled next to the one you woke up in, their doors similarly barred. You cursed under your breath, searching for an access pad that you might use, only pausing when you heard a door slide open behind you.

        “I did not expect to find you awake.” You had heard that voice only once before in your life, but you would never forget the man it belonged to.

        The Zabrak man was just as you remembered him, the markings that twisted over his red skin just as baleful as they had been when you first saw him. Only now, that look of a predator was gone from his nearly glowing yellow eyes. It was replaced with one of inquiry now, directed towards you.

        “Where am I?” you asked, the first of many questions on your mind.

        “Aboard my ship, on Esseles.” You hadn’t assumed he would be a man of many words, and this answer proved it. Still, the knowledge of what planet you were on was useful should you need to run - though you doubted running from this man would ever work. “You were being held by Bartokk assassins. Why?”

        You knew he was referring to your imprisonment, though you were surprised that this was his first question. You weren’t sure that you wanted to give him an honest answer, but you supposed that there was very little chance this man was working for the Bartokks. “My captain and I were transporting hyperdrive components for the Trade Federation. We were attacked and I woke up there.” The thought of Xos sprung to your mind for the first time since you woke. Surely if you had survived, perhaps he had too?

        “You were just a courier, then?” he sounded genuinely surprised.  

        You nodded, debating whether to ask him more questions, and which ones to ask. “My captain, did you find him as well?” you let a bit of hope into your words.

        The man shook his head, no trace of remorse apparent in his features. “No one in that fortress survived,” his yellow eyes narrowed, “except you.”

        Sadness and shock seemed to be the only clear emotions you could discern upon hearing the news, though they didn’t last long before a _snap-hiss_ sound reached your ears, and the red blade that had killed Mighella was held against your throat.

        “Only one with great power could have lived through that. Power and years of training.” You fought the urge to back away, though you did lean back from the weapon and the lethal man holding it. “You are no Jedi, so _what are you_?”

        You shook your head. “I’m no one, I was a slave until a year ago. I’ve never had any training!”

        The words had slipped from your lips before you could truly think about them, and as soon as they had a look of realization flashed across the man’s eyes. “You were there that day,” he realized, and you knew that he had recognized you, “you were a slave to the Black Sun.”

        Carefully, so as not to touch any of your flesh against the blade still at your throat, you nodded.

        Silence passed between the two of you, a moment that moved slowly enough for you to almost see the thoughts crossing the Zabrak’s mind. His eyes still held that same anger, the red of his blade reflecting over the yellow. He was determining whether or not to kill you, you imagined.

        That’s why the red blade vanishing into nonexistence was so surprising.

        Your (E/C) eyes widened as you looked from the hilt of his weapon back up to his tattooed face. “One with your power should not be a slave.” He moved a step closer, almost claiming the space as his own. “I will teach you how to use that power.”

        Once again, you were astonished by the man’s actions. He was offering you a chance to live, if not more than that. Still, the air of superiority he held around him was enough to make you question his offer. “I was a slave for most of my life,” he didn’t seem to expect the bite your voice carried, “I won’t be yours.”

        He shook his head. “If you survive, no one will be able to control you.”

        All-too aware of the possibilities of pain in your future, you agreed to the Zabrak’s terms. After all, you had learned many lessons from your time as a slave, ones Rela and those around you had instilled for years. Perhaps the most important, you had discovered later, though; a life in chains was no life at all.


	4. Trial and Error

        It had been nearly a month since you awoke aboard the _Scimitar_ ; nearly a month since Maul had started to train you, and each day had been harder than the last. Already, you sported a few new cuts and bruises from the combat training the Zabrak was putting you through, and you knew there would likely be more tomorrow. Your wounds were healing faster than you though possible with the supplies in Maul's possession, though they still ached from time to time.

        None of them hurt the same way the Black Sun’s whips had, or had the same ache as a shock collar digging into your flesh.

        In only a month, you could already see a difference in your body. Muscles were beginning to ripple beneath your skin and the soreness they once held was becoming almost a welcome feeling to you. Your movements where becoming faster, and though Maul still bested you whenever you sparred, you had begun to last longer with each match.

        Using your newfound power, was another matter altogether.

        You weren't sure exactly how late it was, nor did you care. You had your own prerogative, and the hour didn't matter to you.

        As quietly as you could, so as not to disturb the sleeping Zabrak, you made your way down the hallway of the _Scimitar_ and towards the cargo bay. The door was locked, just as it had been when you first explored the ship. Now, however, you had the advantage of having watched Maul enter the access code and memorizing it for future use.

        After all, there wasn’t really anything worth guarding in there at the moment, just empty storage crates and even more empty space, which made it the perfect place to practice.

        As soon as the door slid open, you were moving towards one such supply crate and dragging it to the center of the room. Backing away, you took in a deep breath, trying to remember everything Maul had told you of this power. He’d called it the Force, something that was little more than a whisper to you until now.

        It was the source of most of your problems now, but you’d be damned if it would hold you back.

        Reaching out a hand, you narrowed your focus in on the box that sat motionless before you. You could imagine the box moving, and you flexed your fingers as you tried to bring that image into the world.

        The result was stillness.  

        “Come on,” you muttered, trying once again only to be met with the same outcome.

        Over and over and over you tried, never getting more than a shudder from the crate. You let your arm drop to your side, your eyebrows drawn together in frustration. This should have worked. You should have been able to do something so simple.

        The thought of failure crossed your mind, the thought that you would never be able to accomplish your goal. And with it came a rage. You thought of how powerless it made you feel, how worthless. You saw Rela holding back tears as the other slaves tried to heal the new cuts opened on her back. You saw Mighella glaring at you as you passed, daring you to make a move. You saw Alexi Garyn looking down at you like you were property.

        “You are _not_ his property.” You hadn’t expected to hear the voice, so you jumped when Maul spoke. “No one will ever control you again. Do you understand?”

        Too stunned to speak, you studied those glowing yellow eyes you’d come to know for the last month. There was always a hardness to them, an intensity, but now there was something else there too. It looked just a step away from rage . . . determination perhaps?

        His gaze finally moved from yours and landed over your shoulder, where the box still sat. With a nod, he silently told you to try again.

        Taking in a breath, you turned and focused, reaching out a hand yet again. You tried to relax the anger you were feeling, but it was like a haze had gone up in your mind and your thoughts were trapped within. _Calm down,_ you tried to tell yourself, _calm down._

        The box didn’t move.

        “Do not seek to be calm. Peace is a lie.” Maul stood behind you, pacing as he watched you. “There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, power. Through power, victory and through victory my chains are broken.” He was closer to you now, his voice more quiet. “The Force shall set me free.”

        You looked behind you, towards where Maul’s glowing eyes were. He met your gaze for a moment, but then looked back to the crate.

        “The Force and freedom are one and the same, (Y/N). Use them.”

        Memories of every night you spent as a slave came back to you then. You could remember how heavy the shock collar felt and how badly you wanted it gone from you. The voices of Rela and the other slaves came back as you all discussed what you would do if you were ever free. It seemed like no more than a distant dream to you then, but now your masters were dead and you had in you the power to shape the world around you.

        There was anger that came with these memories, but that anger was joined by something else now; a feeling like you could fly. You felt an energy that you hadn’t experienced in your whole life, and it extended beyond you.

        You had never been more sure of yourself when you turned away from Maul and extended your hand yet again. And this time, you sent the crate flying across the cargo hold until it struck the wall on the other side.

        You smiled and turned to face Maul again, feeling a swell of pride. Maul, in the dim light, looked pensive, but you could see the corners of his mouth curving into a  small grin. “Well done.”

        Suddenly, you were aware of how close the two of you were. You could see every intricate detail of his tattoos, the flecks of red in the gold of his eyes. The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment, before Maul broke it by speaking. “We will practice again tomorrow morning.”

        Then in a moment he was gone, leaving you in the cargo hold with even more on your mind than when you entered.


	5. A Matter of Trust

        Maul, as you had learned, was a fierce and unforgiving teacher. There was never a promise of success, nor that he would let you rest unless you would absolutely collapse without it. Usually, anyway.

        Today was different, a break from the usual regimen of grueling training. You weren’t exactly sure which planet you had landed on, but Maul had been outside the ship all day. “Business,” had been his only explanation - as it had been the few other times he’d left you alone - and then you were left to your own devices.

        While Maul’s ship was fairly large, you had seen everything there was to see - without delving into his personal affairs anyway.

        And there was only so much practice you could do before lacking of something to do began to gnaw at you.

        Several hours into your self-regulated training, you finally heard the _Scimitar’s_ landing pad open and you practically shot to your feet from where you were meditating. You knew that Maul would likely berate you for being impatient, but you didn’t have it in yourself to care. A sparring session (with an actual sparring partner, not an imagined one) would do you some good.

        Seeing Maul limping up the landing pad put a dent in that plan.

        He had a hand pressed tight to his side while the other clutched his double-bladed lightsaber tightly. Anger raged like a fire in his eyes, though they were cast down in defeat. You knew better than to say anything and instead grabbed one of the med pacs from the infirmary.

        Maul had already shut the landing pad by the time you got back to him, his teeth bared in a grimace. You moved to help him, only barely brushing his arm before he moved sharply away from you. “I have this.” He growled, reaching to take the med pac from you.

        Stubbornly, and against your better judgement, you pulled back from him. “Let me help you.” You weren’t asking but you also weren’t expecting him to concede. Maul had never been this upset around you, and you knew that normally he was very set on never showing vulnerability. You knew that your offer to help likely only added to his frustration.

        You also knew that, at present, you didn’t give a damn.

        Maul must have seen that in your expression, because he didn’t stop you the second time you went to help him. He still looked angry, but he let you lead him into the med-bay so you could try to patch him up.

        You were no doctor, making progress a bit slow. It was obvious enough that his wound had come from a blaster, a clean shot to his side. It would be patched up relatively easily - as easily as your limited experience would allow - but you could tell it pained the Zabrak, even as much as he tried to hide it. You supposed that, as a warrior, Maul had been dealt worse injuries in the past. All the same, you couldn’t help but wonder who had managed to get the better of him. It was his flinch as your hands first brushed against his warm skin that you hadn’t expected. There was something familiar about it to you, and it took a few moments before you placed the memory that came with the action. You remembered the first few times that Xos had placed a fatherly hand on your shoulder, and you had flinched away. Not because you were afraid of him, but because someone touching you without meaning to harm you was an alien concept to you at the time.

        Seeing the movement from Maul was equally strange . . . but it revealed something about him that you doubted he would have ever voiced himself. You moved slower with your next action, pressing the kolto pack to his wound with great care. This time, you could feel the smallest amount of tension leave his body as he relaxed. Bandages were next, to hold the kolto in place, and you risked a glance up at the Zabrak while you worked. His eyes were focused on some invisible spot, deep in thought but not as angry as they had been. You had only barely finished wrapping the wound when there was a chiming sound from the cockpit and you saw Maul’s eyes flash.

        Maybe it wasn’t the pain that was on his mind after all, but something else entirely . . .

        “Stay here.” He grimaced as he stood, moving towards the holoprojector in his quarters. This was not the first time you’d heard him receive a call from someone, nor was the pattern something you believed to be a coincidence. He had been called directly before and after touching down on a new planet, though he had usually taken the call in the cockpit. It was enough to make your mind buzz with theories, and you hoped that some of them would be answered now.  

        You had a bad angle, but you could see that whoever Maul was speaking to was wearing a cloak with a deep cowl. “Master, I have dealt with the Syndicate.”

        There was a pause before a raspy voice responded. “And Balkar?”

        “Dead.”

        “You have done well, Apprentice. Return to Coruscant at once. I have a new task for you.”

        “As you wish, my Master.”

        The blue glow of the hologram disappeared, meaning Maul had deactivated it. The room was silent, making your thoughts seem all the louder. _Master._ Maul, the man who had taught you that the Force would give you the freedom you’d always dreamed of as a child, had a Master of his own. And he hadn’t told you. You’d guessed that he’d been employed by someone, but the term _Master_ implied a deeper, more rigid devotion.

        When the tattooed Zabrak appeared in front of you, his mood had not changed . . .but yours had.

        “So even you have a master?”

        Maul stopped in his tracks and you expected him to blow up in your face. You were surprised by how restrained he was when he answered. “Darth Sidious taught me everything I know of the Dark Side. Just as I am teaching you.”

        “So you let him order you around?”

        Maul shook his head. “You do not understand.” It was a short answer, and not one to your liking. So as Maul began to walk towards the cockpit entrance, you moved to stand in front of him, blocking the way.

        “No, I don’t understand. You’ve taught me how to use a power that I barely knew existed but you haven’t _told_ me anything.” You were moving closer to him now, the volume of your voice climbing. “You’ve been running around the galaxy and you just expect me to stay in the shadows. Why? You told me that I would be free, but you’ve kept me in here for _months_ now-”

        “I keep you hidden because my Master would kill you if he discovered you.” He practically growled the words, as he often did when he spoke.

        You were still for a few moments as you analyzed the flaming eyes of the man before you. Still angry, still determined, but there was something else too. Something that you might even consider to be worry, if Maul was capable of such a thing. “Why did you save me, then? You didn’t have to. You could have let me die and saved yourself the trouble.”

        Maul stepped closer to you, his gaze as intense as ever. “Do not question my motives. I saved you because I saw what you could become.” You had seen the expression he wore now only a few times before. The first had been the night he discovered you practicing the Force, and an increasing number of times following that. It was filled with unspoken words, and each time you caught him looking at you that way, it sent fire through you.

        “Then let me come with you. Help me understand.”

        A moment passed between the two of you, like he was making a decision that might bring him ruin. “You will be in danger every step of the way.” He cautioned, though you suspected that he was prepared for a certain answer. You gave it to him, stepping deliberately closer to him, noticing his bandaged, tattooed chest rising and falling ever so slightly.

        “I’m ready for it.”

        Then you saw a dangerous tenacity in the fire of his eyes. “I know you are.”


	6. Into the Fray

       Nar Shaddaa was unlike any planet you had been to. When you’d served aboard the _Red Flare_ under Xos’ command, you had stopped on the Smuggler’s Moon only a handful of times to drop off cargo. During these visits, you hadn’t seen much of the locale but even in the relatively small spaceports you’d been in, you got the sense that there was trouble around every corner.

      Actually walking the streets was a different beast entirely; there were plenty of drunks and flashing, neon-colored signs advertising every fantasy one could have. There were plenty of intimidating-looking characters that sized people up as they passed.

        Fortunately, they often decided it wasn’t worth the effort when you and Maul walked by.

        It was understandable, you supposed. Maul was already intimidating enough, but with the dark cloaks the two of you had donned, you imagined that you were quite the off-putting sight. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it on some level.

        You were less sure how to feel about Maul’s current assignment, however. From what he had told you, his master had sent him to the Smuggler’s Moon to track down an arms dealer, and more importantly, a man who he had sold some very important weapons to. Weapons that had apparently meant to go to Maul’s master. You hadn’t been told much more than that, save for that this was all just one small step in an otherwise grand plan. Maul had chosen not to tell you more, but it was sufficient enough to make you realize just what you were now involved in.

        Maul’s warning about what his master would do if he discovered you had stuck with you, but you had told him that you were ready for whatever may come your way. So here you were, walking into an all-too brightly colored bar, feeling dozens of eyes watching you as you walked through.

        Maul had told you to be cautious, not because of the clientele itself but because of who owned the establishment itself. Vathav, the man Maul was going after, happened to be the owner of the place. You knew that he was a hulking, horned alien - a Nikto - who worked as an enforcer for a Hutt crime boss. Maul had told you that Vathav had even killed a Jedi, once. That alone was enough to make you wary. More than that, you weren’t sure of. Only that you had a feeling that Vathav was about to join Mighella on the list of people that Maul had dispatched, Jedi-killer or no.

        It felt strange to be aiding him on such a mission; you had never planned on assassinating anyone, or even helping an assassin. Your conscience might have rebelled against the idea were it not for the slaves that greeted you when you entered the bar. They may not have been wearing shock collars or other chains, but the identical tattoos you spotted on their exposed necks was more than enough to let you know that their freedom was not their own.

    Anger boiled in your stomach. You wanted more than anything to help them in some way, but ultimately you knew that there was a slim chance of you doing anything but getting them killed. Not to mention, you were here for a very different reason.

        There were dozens of conversations going on, all drowned out by the music being played overhead. You followed Maul closely as he made his way through the crowd, but your eyes wandered over the people within.

        Dozens of different aliens made up the bulk of the clientele, with several humans mixed in. Most of them had brightly colored drinks in their hands, others chose to watch the dancers that moved around the platforms on the edge of the room. The sight of them made you stop in your tracks for a moment. At first, it was because you were looking at what your life might have been like if you hadn't been freed. Your reason changed when you realized something about one of the dancers in the corner.

        It may have been dark in the club, the lighting designed specifically to make things unclear. There may have been several Twi’leks besides the one that drew your attention. All the same, as soon as you laid eyes on her, a feeling of familiarity washed over you. It brought with it memories of a young woman trying to sooth you to sleep and keeping a watchful eye over you. It also brought to mind a single name.

_Rela._

        You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there, staring at a woman you never thought that you’d see again. It must have been long enough for Maul realize he’d lost your focus, because he was pulling you through the crowd not long after. He sent a chastising glare your way, but you barely noticed.

        The crowd was thicker where you now stood, enough to disorient you so you lost track of where Rela was. You could only look for so long before you felt Maul’s eyes on you again. _It probably wasn’t even her,_ you thought. How many rutian Twi’leks were there in the galaxy? There must have been thousands on Nar Shaddaa alone and the odds that your childhood protector was here . . .

        “Zeven Gadreel,” Maul’s voice called your attention. When you turned to look at where his attention was held, you found a man slumped against a booth in front of you, a single, bright blue drink resting in front of him. Human, with a tattoo circling his left eye, he looked up at the pair of you with a scrutinizing gaze.

        Still, after a moment, he nodded. “And you must have been sent by our mutual friend.” He made a sweeping gesture to the seats in front of you. “Please,” he offered, and the two of you sat.

        “You have what we came for?” Maul growled, clearly not pleased about having to go through a middle man. Still, the fact that he was even bothering was telling that this _Zeven_ likely worked directly for Maul’s master.

     “That I do,” Zeven slid something across the table. Whatever it was, it was enclosed in a box. “And _he_ will be at the spaceport. You can meet him there while your friend here,” he tipped his head towards you, “delivers the package to his place.” While the cryptic language was enough to hide Zeven’s true meaning, but not the general idea of his plan. It seemed that Maul would be keeping someone occupied while you planted something.

        Maul took the box from the table, his eyes flicking to the side for just a moment to examine the room around them. Zeven smiled, taking a swig of his brightly colored drink. “Been a pleasure.” It seemed that the meeting was over, because Zeven stood and left just moments after.

        -----

        “It’s a data spike,” Maul explained from your refuge in a darkened alcove. The two of you had left the bar in order to avoid prying eyes. You hadn’t been able to see Rela on the way out, but your focus was more on your own task now. “It needs to be inserted into a computer in Vathav’s compound.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “We will have to work fast to kill Vathav and then infiltrate his base. His own guards will notice that he has gone silent.”

    The plan made you do a double-take. “I thought that _I_ was going to be infiltrating his base.”

        The look Maul gave you was enough to let you know that your idea was not what he had in mind. “You will be with me.” _Where I can keep an eye on you_ , the unspoken truth rang through his words.

        “It would make more sense for me to plant the data spike while you keep him distracted.” The glare you recieved didn’t stop you from explaining further. “If his guards _do_ get suspicious, I can be in and out before they realize what’s happening. And if his guards warn _him_ then you can take care of him before he can get back to his compound.”

        Maul did not look convinced. “There are too many guards in Vathav’s compound for you to get inside. And you cannot face them alone.”

        Your brow furrowed, knowing that he was right. You didn’t stand a chance against security forces alone, even with your training. An enforcer this wealthy was bound to have good hired guns at his side to protect him. Slave masters didn’t like to lose their property . . . and if that really was Rela, then she would remain a slave while you walked free.

        That idea was too much for you, outweighing everything else in your mind and in that moment another thought came to you. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have Vathav’s slaves with me.”

        His eyes narrowed, but Maul seemed to at least be interested in the idea. “You want to lead a revolt? With slaves who have no combat experience?” It was obvious from his tone that he didn’t approve of your plan. All the same, you were not going to be deterred. He had taught you - against his best interests - to not take no for an answer. He had showed you that you had the power to shape your own choices and you had no intention of stopping now.

        “I’m going to use the people whose lives Vathav destroyed to bring him down.” The flash of Maul’s eyes was not hard to miss, and you swore you almost saw him grin.breathed out something close to a sigh, and you got the sensation that he was almost _content._

        “I cannot protect you if you do this,” his words were hushed, and you could scarcely believe how concerned he sounded.

        “I know,” your own voice was quiet but no less sure. True, you were risking much so that Maul’s mission would succeed but it was more than that. You were doing this for you as well, and for the slaves that Vathav kept.

        You were doing this so that, one day, no one might have to suffer the way you did ever again.

\-----

        The bar was still busy when you returned, though this time you found yourself at the end of far more unsavory stares. The price of being alone, you supposed, but you pressed forward nonetheless. You were heading towards the spot where you last saw Rela, hoping that she would still be there.

        What you were going to say to her when you got there was another matter altogether, but you figured you would take things one step at a time.

        Your plan encountered its first problem when you arrived at the spot where Rela was, only to find a blonde human girl dancing there instead. _“Damn,”_ you hissed, looking around to see if you could spot her in the crowd. Rela was nowhere to be found, but you did spot another dancer, a Nautolan with green head tresses. “Excuse me,” you said, thanking your stars that she heard you over the blaring music.

         The woman turned to face you, her expression a mask of happiness. “How can I help you, sweetheart?”

        “I . . .” you tried to think of what to say, “I was hoping to see Rela.” You breathed yet another sigh of relief when her face softened in recognition. She _was_ here.

      She nodded before saying, “Of course, she’d quite popular, isn’t she? I’ll arrange a back room for you.” Ignoring the implications the dancer had assumed, you thanked her before making your way to the room she spoke of. As soon as the door was closed, you began to search the room for any cameras that might be hidden there. Your search was cut short when the door slid open once again.

        You whirled around, dozens of memories rushing back to you as you found yourself looking into the green eyes of a woman you hadn’t seen since Ralltiir. “Rela,” you breathed, almost not believing what you were seeing. She was still beautiful, though she looked tired. The faint, hopeful light you could always remember in her expression was gone, and the black, spiked mark worn by all of Vathav’s slaves marked her neck.

        “(Y/N),” her voice was quiet, her own disbelief more than evident as her eyes widened. Slowly, joy overtook her somber expression and she moved to wrap her slender arms around you. “I thought I would never see you again,” she whispered against the fabric of your cloak.

        You allowed yourself to return the embrace, holding back the tears threatening to fall down your face.

        She released you, stepping back to examine you. “What happened to you? Where did you disappear to after Alexi was killed?”

      You shook your head, “It’s a long story and we don’t have much time.” You knew that your tone would only worry her, but you really did need to hurry. Maul would only be able to wait for your signal for so long. “I’m here to set you free. You and everyone else under Vathav’s control.” Speaking in as quiet a voice as you could, Rela still seemed to hear you well enough.

     The blue-skinned Twi’lek shook her head, fear overtaking her eyes. “(Y/N), you can’t. Vathav is ruthless, he would never let a single one of us go. He would kill you before you could do anything to help us.” Her voice was lowered as yours was, but full of much more worry.

You shook your head. “Not if we all act together.” Despite your protests, Rela didn’t seem convinced.

        “We would never win, (Y/N).”

        “Rela,” you thought for a moment, your brows furrowing, “I can’t promise that we’ll win. All I know is that I’m willing to try. Freedom is worth the fight.” You wished that you could find more inspiring words, like some great leader from a childhood story. You might have even been able to find the words yourself, had they been truthful, but you would not lie to Rela. The fight that would follow might cost everything. It was not a choice to be taken lightly.

   And for a moment, you were sure that your childhood protector would chose not to fight. You saw her hesitation and found that you could hardly blame her. You hadn’t really _fought_ for your freedom, only escaped because of Maul and blind luck. You may have dreamed of it every day, but you never acted on your impulse to fight against your masters because you thought the risk was too great. In that moment of hesitation, you thought that Rela would chose the safer path. The path that would leave her in chains.

        Then, with a strength that nearly brought tears to your eyes, Rela nodded.

        “You will need a way inside. Guards have security chips and we have our marks. They can be scanned, and I couldn’t replicate one for you. I can pass the word easily enough, but I cannot promise that everyone will join us.” Her voice had taken on an edge, despite the quiet volume she spoke with.

        Nodding, you looked around quickly. “I’ll handle getting inside. I have a map of the compound, we can talk more once I’m inside.”

        Rela nodded, seeming suddenly more worried. She turned, about to leave before focusing on you once again. “(Y/N),” her tone made you think back to your early years, the voice she would use as she tried to sooth the bite marks left by Mighella’s laser whip. “Be careful.”

        You nodded, your own voice stuck in your throat. “I will be.”

        If you were not, you doubted any of you would live long enough to hear an ‘I told you so’.

        -----

        Your heart was hammering in your chest and the guard’s uniform you wore was too big for you, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t right to call the woman you had knocked out “lucky”. True, she would be missing out on whatever violence was about to unfold in Vathav’s compound, but she was also slumped against the wall of an alley. There hadn’t been much of a fight, thanks to the use of Maul’s teachings.

        You, on the other hand, were making your way towards the back of the bar yet again. This time the crowd parted for you a bit, recognizing the helmet you wore as a mark of one of Vathav’s mercenaries.

        Thanks to that same helmet, no one would be recognizing you.

        There was no trouble from the guard at the back, who let you in as soon as you scanned your card. You thanked the stars that they didn’t ask for your name or otherwise recognize you. After all, there were plenty of other things to worry about.

        The map you had been given seemed to be up to date, but you had very little time to memorize it. When you could, you would try to inconspicuously glance at it before returning your gaze forward. You weren’t sure how long you searched for Rela, only that every moment felt to be going at either lightspeed or lasting an eternity. _What if she had been caught? Would she be alright? What if-_

        You sensed someone drawing closer to you and still you jumped a bit when a woman stumbled into you, sending your stolen blaster spiraling to the ground. “I beg your forgiveness, Master,” a familiar voice begged, and you found the Nautolan dancer from the bar kneeling to retrieve your weapon.

        Her expression was apologetic, but there was something else in her eyes; a knowingness. “Watch yourself,” you said, trying to keep up the act. She nodded, handing your weapon back to you before continuing on her way.

        Looking around to ensure that you were alone once more, you turned your focus to the blaster. A crumpled napkin was wrapped around it, a damp ring from a drink stamped into it. Unfolding it, you found words in a messy script. Still, messy or not, you could make it out as well as you needed to.

_We stand with you._

        -----

        Maul watched the spaceport from under the shadow of his cowl, hidden in the shadows on the side of the room. The ship with the weapons meant for Vathav waited just in front of him, the bait for the trap. He couldn’t say that he liked the plan, but something about the way you spoke had stopped him from saying no.

        It was the passion that he had been teaching you, unbridled and strong.

        He had found himself feeling pride at your strength. And it was the reason that you were so far from him now. You had checked in not long ago, telling him that you had knocked out a guard and found a way inside. Now, as he watched a smaller personal shuttle swoop into the hangar and land, Maul would have to do his part.

        Stepping out of the shadows, Maul approached the shuttle as its boarding ramp descended. Heavy footsteps echoed off the metal, and Maul’s hand went to the double-bladed lightsaber beneath his cloak. There would be no bargaining for the weapons Vathav wanted; the enforcer would find only death here.

        Maul’s cold focus only faltered when a hulking human man stepped off the shuttle, flanked by four guards. Whoever this man was, it was not the one he was looking for.

        “Where is Vathav?” Maul’s voice was low and hoarse, his gaze set into a glare.

        The brute in front of him snorted as if it were obvious. His voice was condescending, and he stepped up to Maul, looking down on him. “Vathav doesn’t come in person for something as trivial as a weapons pickup. Besides,” the man drew a vibroblade from his side, an eager look overtaking his face, “you’re not our usual seller. Can’t take too many chances.”

        Maul growled, taking his lightsaber and igniting one side. “Then he has sent you to your deaths.”

        The fight began with ferocity, with blaster fire filled the air. Maul’s movements were full of anger as he worked to dispatch the men in front of him. All the while, his thoughts were on you.

        Because if Vathav wasn’t here, then he was still at his compound. You were about to attack a Jedi-killer.


	7. Trial by Fire

        The plan was, overall, a simple one. You would take care of the guards outside the slave quarters and take down the cameras. From there, you and the slaves would go to the weapons depot and outfit your makeshift army with blasters. Then it became even more simple; kill the guards, plant the data spike and find a way out.

_Easy_. You told yourself for the thousandth time, nodding respectfully to some mercs as they walked past. _It’s an easy plan._ As easy as overthrowing a crime lord’s personal army.

        The slave quarters were isolated, far away from anything of value to prevent exactly the sort of thing you were planning now. You had already passed the barracks and a shooting range, and the weapon’s depot wasn’t far from that. The large atrium in the center of the building doubled as a bar and lounge, with people you could only assume where Vathav’s cohorts chatted with each other.

        It was also a funnel, you realized. The atrium connected everything together so that any attack groups would have to come through here to escape. Maul would have been able to simply carve through any guards without trouble, you imagined. You wouldn't have such an option.

        Two guards stood outside the slave's quarters, ones that nodded to you as you passed. A ray shield separated the quarters from the hallway, and inside you glimpsed a series of bunks that reminded you of the compound you grew up in. _Just a little longer, and you'll all be free._ You vowed it both to them and to yourself.

        The security room sat in the back of the compound, the guards outside analyzing you before letting you pass. Once inside, you immediately felt the gaze of the mercs inside landing on you.

        “Shift isn't over yet, what are you doing in here?” One of the helmeted mercs asked, and you felt yourself tense.

        “Situation at the entrance, Vathav wants you guys to check it out. Some guy with tattoos picked a fight, it got out of hand.” It was the first lie that came to mind, and not a very good one.

        The guards didn't seem any more convinced than you were. “Why didn't he call it in?”

_Shit, comm_ s, you grit your teeth beneath your borrowed helmet. “I, uh . . . I lost my comm. I didn't know 'til I tried to call and couldn't.”

        The guards exchanged looks and chucked. “Rookies,” one of them muttered, not hiding the disdain in his voice.

        “Stay here, then. We'll handle it. You'll probably just make things worse.”

        You breathed a sigh of relief as the guards picked up their blasters and cleared out, leaving you alone with the monitors and the security feed. As soon as the door closed, you went straight to work. You found a place for the data spike, one that was out of the way enough that - hopefully - the guards wouldn't notice it if they returned. Then, you turned your attention to the cameras.

        While you weren't fluent in Huttese, years of service to a crime syndicate had helped you pick up a few key phrases. It was easy enough to discern which cameras covered different areas of Vathav's base, and just as simple to disable them.

        You were about to cut the feed from another camera when you noticed something that gave you pause. It was massive, a great, horned silhouette that brought with him a feeling of dread. _Vathav_. He wasn't at the docks fighting Maul . . .

        “Maul, come in,” you hissed into your ear comm, only to be met with static. _Was he alright? Had Vathav . . ._ “Maul, Vathav is here, what should I do?” Your heart began to race. You were alone. “Maul I . . .” you began, though you stopped yourself, gazing at the monitor. He was just one man, whether he was renowned for killing or not. He would just be one more obstacle to overcome. “Maul, if you can hear me, I'm going forward with the plan. I'll get it done, whatever it takes.”

        You cut the connection from the last monitors, giving one last look to the data spike. Next, you cut the power to the ray shield that blocked the slaves quarters.

        The stun blast on your stolen blaster took care of the two guards outside the door, and you bound their arms and legs together.

        Moments later, the alarm bagan to blare.

        -----

        With a swing of his saber staff, Maul dispatched a mercenary who was foolish enough to fire at him. Vathav was a fool not to send more guards. A fool not to be there himself, because Maul would do far worse than kill him if anything had happened to you.

        The men had been easy to cut through, but they had still stalled him. He snarled, deactivating his lightsaber and immediately started to make his way up the ramp of the small ship the mercenaries had arrived in. Flying it back to Vathav's compound would be much quicker than on foot. “(Y/N), report,” he spoke into his comm, only to be met by static. His brow furrowed while he powered up the ship. All the while, his mind was afire.

        He refused to acknowledge the countless ways things could be going wrong. He refused to believe the feeling in his gut that something had happened to you.

        Instead, he set his focus on getting to you. Anyone who stood in his way would not be standing for long.

        -----

        You had assumed that, given what you saw Maul accomplish during your first meeting and your escape of the Bartokk compound, you would be ready for the chaos you unleashed. It only took dodging blaster fire for you to realize that you were unprepared for this fight.

        It had been easy to tell when the slaves had made it to the weapons store room, the sounds of blaster shots and battle cries echoing down the hallways. You had been fortunate to be away from that first wave of the fight, if the bodies you had stepped over were any indication. More slaves than guards you had noted, and guilt grew in your stomach. You had been afraid of this, even though some part of you expected it. These were, after all, civilians going up against trained fighters.

        All the more reason for you to find the group and turn the tables, if you could.

        It was risky to leave the data spike unattended, you knew. A mercenary might stumble upon it and destroy it . . . but you couldn't let Rela - or any of the other slaves - fight alone. For you, this was more than a mission to retrieve data.

        The screaming and panic had finally quieted down, though you could still hear blaster fire from up ahead, where the main lounge would be. _That must be where most of the fight is_ , you realised, tightening your grip on your blaster.

        That would be where you headed, then. You had started this fight, the least you could do was to help end it.

        The first resistance you encountered was a pair of mercs rushing out of the weapons store room. Your body reacted to their threats before your mind had a chance to process them. Raising the blaster in your hand and aiming it at them was instinct, and pulling the trigger was surprisingly easy. It took three shots, but the two mercenaries fell and neither had the opportunity to harm you.

        You were becoming used to the idea of death, you realized, and the thought might have scared you if you weren't focused on other things.

        You checked the mercs, making sure that they wouldn't get back up. You didn't look at their faces longer than you had to, keeping your conscience at bay.

        Next, you turned into the weapons room, finding it mostly picked over. There was a spare pistol that you took, hooking it under your belt, and a utility knife that you slid into your boot. _Breathe_ , you reminded yourself, taking just a moment to focus. _Fight for them, and for you._

        When you left the armory, you sealed it behind you. From there, you began to make your way towards the lounge.

        As you turned a corner, stray blaster bolt stopped you in your tracks, flashing inches away from you and slamming into the wall beside you. Ducking back around the corner, you risked a glance towards where the shot came from. It looked like something out of a war story, the amount of blaster bolts that shot through the space. On the side closest to you, you spotted several crouched figures taking cover against the barrage.

        It was only a glance, not enough for you to tell who was closest to you. With any luck, it would be Rela and the rest.

        “Rela,” you called out, “Rela!”

        There was a pause, but then over the gunfire came a response. “(Y/N)!”

        You let out a sigh, risking another glance to see the Twi'lek looking over her shoulder to where you were. She held a blaster at the ready, taking cover behind one of the upturned tables.

        With as much speed as you could muster, you rushed from your own cover, sliding in next to Rela and barely missing a few blaster bolts that were sent your way. “We're stuck, (Y/N). We can't get past them.”

        You nodded, needing no further proof than the sound of energy discharges. “I'll find a way around then,” you assured her, your mind rushing. “Then I need to go back to the command center. The data spike should be loaded by now-”

        Just as you spoke, a new voice thundered over all the chaos, with it coming a pause in the combat. “You kriffing _scum_!”

        You turned behind you just in time to see the hulking silhouette of Vathav take aim with a massive blaster rifle. Even as you reached out through the Force to try to push him away, Vathav opened fire, hitting two slaves before your blast reached him.

        When he was sent flying back, you were relieved to see that the Nikto dropped his gun beside him. You were less relieved when he pulled a detonator from his belt and tossed it your way.

        You were never more thankful to Maul and his teachings, thinking quickly enough to drop your gun and use the Force to send the grenade over your head. It whizzed through the air, landing somewhere on the other side of the lounge. From the screams that followed the sound of its explosion, you believed that it had found its way to some mercenaries. The way was clear for the slaves now. At least, there would be less fire on them.

        Vathav's expression turned into a snarl. His eyes, yellow and reptilian, made direct contact with you. “ _Jedi_ ,” he growled, reaching for his gun yet again.

        You were on your feet in an instant, knowing that however dangerous Vathav was unarmed, the chances of death were higher if he had a gun. Pulling your spare blaster pistol from your belt, you fired as many shots as you could. Vathav recoiled just in time to miss being hit, but managed to get to his feet.

_A Sith is never unarmed,_ Maul had once told you, _become the weapon yourself._ He had taught you how to fight, how to take an opponent down without anything but yourself. You just hoped that a few months of training with Maul would be enough. The kick you delivered seemed to catch Vathav off guard, if nothing else. You took the opportunity to aim at the slaver's head, surprised by how quickly he dodged out of the way. Then, with an even greater speed, the Nikto charged at you.

        He swung and you narrowly avoided a hit to the face. The gangster recovered quickly, making another attack that you weren't fast enough to stop.

        The muscles in your back felt a shock of pain as Vathav's hit landed. Your arm lost feeling for a moment and the blaster you held clattered to the floor. As soon as he moved his arm away you threw yourself back, giving yourself space that would provide a bit of safety.

        “(Y/N)!” Rela called out to you, though you didn't dare to take your eyes off of your opponent.

        “Go!” you yelled back, ducking out of the way of an attack. “Get out of here!”

        You didn't get the opportunity to see if she took your advice, seeing Vathav starting towards Rela. _Keep him away from them,_ was the first thought to go through your mind. With the Force, you pulled Vathav away from the slaves, sending him flying into the far wall of the hallway.

        You finally checked to see if the slaves were leaving, seeing them running across the lounge, dodging blaster fire as they went. Meanwhile, you spotted Rela turning towards one of the many other hallways that branched off away from the lounge. Back towards the more militant bulk of the compound.

_She's going for the data spike,_  you realized. You almost smiled as she made eye contact with you. You would just have to keep Vathav distracted now.

        As the gangster stood again, you took up a ready stance, making yourself a bastion between Vathav and the slaves. You didn't speak - and didn't have to - letting your eyes fall into a challenging glare. _Come on, then,_ you thought, hoping that he would take the bait.

        Vathav chuckled, light from the fire starting behind you casting dancing shadows across him. “I've killed some of your kind before, _Jedi_ ,” you elected not to correct him, “but I think your death will be the one I'll enjoy the most.”

        You didn't move, not taking the bait. Instead, you waited for him to make the first move.

        It felt like sheer luck that you avoided Vathav's assault, the flurry of blows he unleashed getting closer to making contact with you every time he swung. Despite his size, he was incredibly quick. He would have to be, you realized, in order to have defeated Jedi.

        Waiting for an opening was difficult, as you were too slow to take advantage of any that you saw. Not to mention the fact that you were defending so constantly.

        It took a powerful, bone-cracking blow to your ribs for you to realize that you were going about this the wrong way. You wouldn't beat him with strength or skill, but maybe you could find a way to get the drop on him.

        A game of cat and mouse.

        Dodging another attack, you slipped away from the Jedi-killer, beginning to dash down the hallway you had come from. The network beyond it would be a sufficient place to loose him, you hoped. And once you did, you would have to act fast.

        So you ran, searching for a suitable place to make your stand.

        -----

        When Maul returned to the compound, it was ablaze with chaos. The bar in the front of the establishment was being emptied of people, all of them screaming in fear. They paid no attention to Maul pushing his way against the crowd, too busy trying to escape whatever was going on inside.

        If you were among the crowd, Maul did not sense you.

        So, further into the compound he went, pushing past frightened people as he went. As he progressed further into the building, the makeup of the crowd changed. Where there were well-dressed patrons and common scoundrels, now there were ragged aliens sprinting towards the exits. The slaves, Maul realized. Then your plan had at least worked in that regard.

        It was what the slaves were running from that concerned Maul, seeing a group of armed mercenaries round the corner in front of him. They all stopped in their tracks upon seeing Maul, raising their blasters just moments too late.

        Maul, red lightsaber blazing to life, charged.

        -----

        The barracks, you decided, would be where you made your stand. The bunks would make for exploitable terrain and offer hiding spots, and you had just enough time to make use of it. As soon as you got there, you crouched to the floor and slid under a bunk close to the door. You pulled your knife from your boot, holding it in front of you in waiting.

        Suddenly you were aware of how loud your breathing was, how fast your heart was pounding against you. All you could do was wait as footsteps sounded against the metal floor.

        “Come out you Jedi filth!” the Nikto roared.

         Moments later, Vathav's heavy boots came into your sightline, thundering against the floor. His footsteps seemed to overpower the sound of the alarms as he walked in front of you, but you willed yourself to focus. You had been waiting for this opportunity, and so you moved.

         You sprung from under your hiding spot, the blade in your hand arcing through the air. Alien blood followed its path as you drove the tip into the soft tissue on the back of Vathav's knee.

         The gangster reared back in pain, collapsing onto his knees as you removed the knife. You were quick to find it a new home, swinging it over the Nikto's shoulder and burying it in the gaps of his chest armor. He sputtered, coughing up more of his own blood as you pulled your weapon free.

        When he slumped to the ground, you finally let yourself breathe again.

        It was over. You had done it.

        Groaning, you backed away from him, the toll of your combat beginning to settle in. You would have plenty of new bruises to show, but you couldn't complain. You were alive.

        Now all you needed was to find Rela and get the data spike.

        She was waiting for you, just outside the now burning lounge. In one hand was the data spike, while the other held a guard's blaster. She fired at what looked to be those guards brave enough to stay and fight for whatever was left of Vathav's property.

        “Rela!” you called to her, catching her attention easily enough.

        She turned, giving you a half smile. “I have what you needed,” her words were rushed as she pressed the data spike into your hand. You pocketed it and turned your attention towards the guards in the lounge.

        “Give me your gun, I'll cover you,” you held out your hands, taking the blaster when she turned it over to you.

        “(Y/N),” she spoke your name with a familiar concern.

        “Don't worry about me. Go on.”

        She smiled faintly. “Be safe, little star.”

        With one last look to you, her expression a storm, Rela turned and ran into the lounge. She wisely stuck to areas where the overturned furniture would provide some cover, though the mercenaries still took aim at her. You responded in kind, and your shots took one of the guards down. His partner returned fire, forcing you to duck behind the wall again. Rela, you hoped, had been given enough of a chance to run.

        Now, it was your turn.

        You spun out from your cover, aiming and firing in a frenzy. Most of your shots missed, but you didn't need them all to hit. One was enough, and that one lucky shot went through the merc's chest, sending her to the ground.

        Holding your breath, you searched for any remaining threats. Fire crackled and wrecked furnishings fell apart, but otherwise the room was empty. You were in the clear.

        At least, that was what you thought until a burning pain exploded through your thigh and you hit the ground. You screamed, immediately pressing a hand to the still-smouldering hole in your leg. A blaster shot, your mind was able to think through the pain. The shadow that cut across your back was answer enough to who was responsible.

        A new pain overtook you as Vathav, bloodied and limping and full of fury, swung his fist into the side of your head. It came with enough force to blur your vision.

        Your throat constricted as a scaled hand wrapped itself around your neck, hoisting you up into the air. You clawed at the hand, kicking your legs as you tried to find purchase on the floor - or land a kick - or get away.

        “I promised you that you would die,” you gasped, desperately trying to get air, “and I make good on my promises.”

        Fear was the first thing you felt. Fear because you couldn't breathe and you couldn't focus and you were going to die. You hadn't been so afraid in so long, since you saw fire rushing towards you, or since your masters raised a whip towards you.

         A slave master would be your murderer. A man who had taken the pride and freedom of your friend and countless others. This would be your death.

        Then you were angry.

        Furious.

        You lashed out, body and mind. Your voice strained for lack of air as you let out a cry. You dug your nails into Vathav's arm, and your eyes narrowed into a deathly glare.

        You could feel your connection to the Force intensify as you commanded it. You could feel Vathav's surprise as you pulled his head to the side.

        You could feel the bones in his neck crack.

        -----

        Maul was greeted with fire when he finally made it into the main compound, the heat hitting him full-force when he walked into the lounge. Bodies were strewn across the ground, ones belonging to both slaves and mercenaries. None of them were of any concern to Maul.

        The figure limping toward him, silhouetted by the fire's light, was all that he cared for.

        He moved towards you, part of him in awe; in awe because you looked so close to death and so alive at the same time. You seemed not to recognize him for just a moment when you looked on him. Then, your eyes widened and your pain truly surfaced.

        Bruising decorated your throat, and you did a poor job of covering the blaster wound in your leg. He knew that you wouldn't make it anywhere on foot. So, he pulled you up into his arms. You grimaced weakly as he did it, fading fast. He needed to bring you back to the Scimitar.

        “He's-” your words were hoarse, “he's dead. I have-”

        “Do not speak.”

        “The data . . . I have it . . .”

        “Rest.” Despite the harshness, Maul felt pride. You had not triumphed, you had not conquered, but you had won. You did what was needed, and you would survive. He would make sure of that.


	8. Recovery and Revelations

       Waking up alone in the dark was perhaps not as disorienting as it should have been. It was your first memory on board _the Scimitar_ , so you recognized your surroundings as soon as you opened your eyes.

       Your blaster wound throbbed, despite the numbness you felt. There must have been a heavy amount of painkillers in your bloodstream, if your sluggishness was any indication.

       You could hear muffled voices from the other side of the door, ones you recognized as Maul and his master.

       You breathed a sigh as you remembered for yourself what had happened. You still smelled of blood and smoke, you realized. It clung to your clothes, a grim reminder of the lives you'd taken. But also a reminder of the lives you had saved. Rela and her friends, you hoped, were safe. If not . . . your throat tightened at the thought. If nothing else, Vathav would not be able to hurt them any longer. You had given him justice for the pain he caused.

       His death, looking back at it now, had been brutal. You hadn't thought yourself capable of such a thing; breaking so many bones in someone's body. Rage had completely taken control in that moment, and you had felt more powerful than ever before.

       It was a terrifying memory.

       You needed to move. You didn't want to sit and wallow in the past.

       Sitting up was difficult, your bruises and sore muscles protesting with every move you made. When you finally made it up, propping yourself up on your arms, you focused next on standing. Part of you knew that it would be foolish to even try with your leg the way it was, but you didn't care.

       You almost cried out as soon as you put weight on your leg, a sharp pain cutting through any numbness you had felt earlier. Stumbling, you managed to find a shaky balance, breathing deeply through the pain. You hadn't noticed Maul's voice go quiet, not until the door to the med bay slid open.

       "You should be resting." Maul's voice was almost cold, _almost_. There was worry hidden in his words, even if his demeanor was one of stoicism.

       "You've never rested because of your injuries."

       "Don't be a fool. Save your strength." You might not have listened, had his eyes not softened ever so slightly. The concern they held helped you change your tune.

       Slowly, on account of the throbbing of your injuries and the look Maul gave you, you sat back down on the cot. Maul looked at least somewhat pleased, no doubt wanting you to lie all the way down and go back to sleep. You might have, but you were owed a debrief too. "Did it work at least? Did you get what you needed?”

       Maul nodded, checking the bandages that held your kolto in place.

       “And the rest? Rela and the others?” you hesitated to ask, afraid that she hadn’t made it out. You would never forgive yourself if you had failed her.

       Fortunately, from the look Maul gave you, you knew that you had succeeded in more ways than just one. “Many of them escaped. Your friend among them.”

       It was funny, how much tension one could hold inside without knowing it. You had been afraid for Rela’s survival - for all of the slaves in Vathav’s grip - since you found them. Now, knowing that they were alive, that your childhood protector was finally free . . . you had to hide a trembling sigh as your shoulders eased. She was _free_. You had given her the only thing she’d ever wanted, just as she’d given you the strength to survive for all those years.

       And Maul had given you the power to give them all a second chance. A true life.

       “Thank you.” It was all you could manage, hoping your tone let him know just how much was being held behind those two words.

        Maul looked into your eyes at last, a stern strength behind them. “You _care_ for them.” He didn’t sound surprised, more like an observation of something he couldn’t quite grasp.

       “I do.” There was nothing to hide from him. You felt no shame in admitting it. You of all people knew what it was to have freedom stripped from you, and what it was to be able to choose a life for yourself. “They deserve freedom. We all do.” You weren’t sure who you really referred to. When you first spoke, you thought of yourself and all the other slaves you grew up with. Looking into the fire of Maul’s eyes though, you realized that you had meant it for him too.

       The Zabrak stayed quiet, looking you over. In the space between words, you felt his touch on your leg amplify. The bandage was changed, you realized, but his hands still lingered. Not so long ago, your positions had been reversed. You wanted to be close to him, you realized. Just as you had wanted it then, if you hadn’t really understood it. Something crossed his eyes, a shadow of something greater. Something you couldn’t place.

       “You did well.”

       You couldn’t help a chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it much on this end.”

       Maul shook his head. “You will heal in time.”

       “And once I do?”

       “You will need a more suitable weapon to defend yourself with than disguises and blasters.” The meaning behind his words was not lost on you in the slightest. He spoke of the lightsaber that hung on his belt; the one that he explained he had built himself when his Master deemed him worthy.

       “I . . . I don’t think-”

       “You will not be undefended again.”

_Undefended._ Did he feel guilty for leaving your side? Did he . . .  “I’m never unarmed or undefended, Maul. You taught me that. You gave me a chance to _live_.” You were close to him again, not even realizing that you had leaned in. You stopped yourself, a mere breath away from him. A thousand doubts crashed together in your head, only to be silenced as quickly as they came when you met Maul’s eyes yet again.

       Between the two of you passed a silent conversation, an unspoken affirmation. _Then live,_ he seemed to say.  

       Maul had been telling you that passion held a key to power, that once one acted on their passions they would be set free. As you pressed your mouth against his, you understood at last what he truly meant. You had wanted this for so long, a hidden desire that you hadn’t assigned a meaning to. You felt powerless and powerful, terrified and undaunted all at the same time. Your wounds were forgotten, and the numbness in your body was replaced with electricity.

       It was like nothing you've ever felt before.

       There was no hesitation on Maul’s part, taking you in his arms and pressing you against him. It was a fierce moment, so much unspoken and understood all at once. A kiss of flames and embers.

       When you parted, you saw as much reflected in his eyes.


End file.
